Stateless
by seeing green
Summary: The Ministry wanted him to pay for his war crimes. Dumbledore wanted her to take a second look. When a delicate friendship is formed, Draco and Hermione discover what they want from one another. AU, D/HR. Read&Review!
1. The Plea

**_Disclaimer_**: I don't own any of these characters. Also this story takes place AU – Everything remains the same from the books right up until when Draco is supposed to kill Dumbledore. The second war takes place that night instead of a year later …. And this is what we're left with. Please enjoy!

* * *

**"Hell is yourself and the only redemption is when a person puts  
himself aside to feel deeply for another person."**

Tennessee Williams

**_Black._**_ Even the darkness that surrounded the castle did not match the dark ebony of the cloaks that were whirling past her and Ron. She noticed the etched wrinkles on their faces – faces of ministry officials and Hogwarts professors. In the middle of the dark herd of men, only in an upward position because their arms held him up, was a boy. And like the moon that broke up the dark sky, he was most noticeable. _

_His eye caught hers and never before had she seen fear and desperation in him until then._

_Before she could speak the crowd bellowed down the rest of the staircases through the tower and she felt Ron's hand enclose over her own._

_Dumbledore and Harry followed closely behind; both tattered, obviously worn down. In Dumbledore's hand were two wands: his own and Draco Malfoy's._

___In Harry's left hand was the symbol that their world had changed for good –_ the Elder wand.

_Lightening flashed across the sky, illuminating both their faces. Harry's was covered in soot and dirt – the only visible layer of his pale skin was where tears stained his cheeks. Hermione took a step forward just in time as her best friend collapsed in her arms. His body shook as he sobbed._

_It was over. _

The sunlight peaked through her scarlet curtains casting an eerie glow in the room. She awoke with a panicked breath and placed a hand over her chest to feel her heart rapidly beating beneath her skin. Hermione turned her head to see that she had a good hour and a half before her Saturday morning shift started.

Instead of hopping out of bed she remained there to remind herself that the nightmare she had was over, and it had been over for months.

Unfortunately she had the dream at least once a week … sometimes a few weeks would pass and she would forget for just a little bit: Until nights like the last where her mind reminded her of Hogwarts' darkest period.

That night the story unfolded of how Draco Malfoy was instructed to kill Dumbledore on Voldemort's order if he wanted his family to remain alive. Snape was revealed as a loyal supporter of Dumbledore's and Harry's, despite previous suspicion. And Voldemort himself returned to Hogwarts to fight in the battle that ended his reign once and for all against raven-haired boy he tried to kill sixteen years earlier.

Ron and Hermione had only seen parts of the battle. To this day she lived with the fact that she killed another human being, regardless of self-defense, and it tormented her. Ron defended his little sister, Ginny against Fenir Greyback and had a scar on his torso to prove it. All of Hogwarts' students, regardless of their background or House, had been effected mentally, physically or both by that night. Harry barely spoke, and as much as he tried to be normal and live each day fully, Hermione saw the fear that remained inside of him.

Draco Malfoy was the other who was most effected. Dumbledore knew this, and because of the his kindness he gave Draco the title of head boy as an opportunity to redeem himself and prove how hard he had worked as a student before that night. Draco was taken from Narcissa and placed under the care of Dumbledore and had spent the last 7 months since that May in the room adjacent to which was currently Hermione's.

Coming out of the trance she was in, Hermione stepped onto the cold floor and quickly made her way over to her dresser to rummage for something to wear. Weekends were not her favorite considering she actually had to think of what to put on rather than choosing on her uniform. Today it was a sweater and jeans. She slipped into a pair of flats, grabbed her wand and pointed it at the bed. With a flicker of light the crimson and gold sheets, quilts and pillows floated neatly back in place.

With everything in its spot, she stepped out of her room into the shared living quarters.

The den remained dark despite of the morning sun that peeked through the only window. Draco had left his papers sprawled out across the table next to the couch. She quietly tiptoed over to see what they were: potions … lots of potions. One parchment in particular grabbed her attention because of how incredibly wrong it was. Kneeling down she grabbed the ink-splotched quill and dipped it into the open jar.

"Two drops…" she whispered, crossing out Draco's _3 and a half._

Coming down and changing his answers was not a new concept for her. He would stay up until the sun would rise most nights trying to do the things that were once easy for him. And Hermione woke early enough to ensure that he was still sleeping and would look over his work to find small things to change without him noticing.

She never received a thank you or acknowledgement, but she did it anyway.

Making sure everything was as he had left it; she grabbed her wand an exited the portrait door into the sixth floor corridor. Saturday mornings were quiet unless there was a quidditch game. Most students enjoyed the extra sleep and wandered down to breakfast whenever they pleased, making her job quite easy on the weekends.

As she sauntered through the halls the thoughts of last night's dream weaved into her thoughts. The war had come sooner than anyone had predicted, and the unexpected fight for their lives left an eerie presence in the castle. Not only had many of their classmates been casualties of Voldemort's last fight … but the Ministry had decided the date of the War Crime Trials to be held only a few months into the semester.

Draco Malfoy's was first.

Regardless of Dumbledore's plea the Ministry felt it appropriate to try Draco because of his actions against the Headmaster and Hogwarts by allowing the Death Eaters to infiltrate that infamous night. Regardless of the outcome, or Draco's confession of what had happened that previous year the Ministry wanted to take a stand against him.

Dumbledore was one of the only one's who understood the pressures he had been under and the stress and the fear that Draco expressed. Much like had done to Harry, Dumbledore began mentoring Draco privately.

Which Hermione had no idea of until today;

"Canary Crèmes." She said almost inaudibly so no one else around her could hear as she stood in front of the phoenix statue.

It began to spin and revealed the spiral staircase that she began to ascend.

Like any other Saturday she had planned on giving Dumbledore her weekly report, but today was not like any other Saturday.

Draco had been having the same dreams as her. Only worse. And without her knowledge had woken earlier to sit by the lake before the sunrise. When that did not work, he made an impromptu visit to the headmaster…

"I'm_ scared_…"

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks before pushing open the cracked door. Without a glance inside she knew it was Draco. But never before had she heard him sound like this: his voice was cracking. She didn't dare move a muscle in fear of interrupting this fragile moment.

"… How can they send me to Azkaban when he threatened my family? My mother…?"

His voice broke. Hermione closed her eyes, feeling uncomfortable and out of place.

"I am not _evil_, Professor. I have never wanted to harm another human being, especially you…"

Over her hushed breathing, she could hear Professor Dumbledore shuffling to his feet. His slow, steady steps rang across the quiet room. The only other thing she could hear was Draco's occasional weeps. Her heart raced at the prospect of being caught and decided now would be the time to turn around and start duty.

Just as she moved her foot to head back down the spiral staircase the door swung open – the morning light filled the room with a warm glow that made Draco's appearance at the door even more obvious. His disheveled sliver-blond hair glowed like a halo when the light reflected off, and his skin was pale – almost blue because of how fair he was.

But his eyes were still the most intense part of his anatomy. His orbs were like constant storms, watching every move she made… but now – now they were obviously showing confusion, fear, resentment that she may have heard any of his obviously private conversation.

Hermione's voice caught in the back of her throat as she tried saying something, anything for that matter in order to break the tension.

As usual Dumbledore came to her rescue, "Ah, Ms. Granger…"

He stepped beside Draco and grabbed her arm, " Good morning, and thank you for being here as I asked of you."

Dumbledore made sure to escort Draco down the stairs before coming back to his office to find Hermione staring idly at a picture of him and Harry that had been taken after the Tri-Wizard tournament during the fourth year. Both waved excitedly after Harry had won the first challenge. Harry still had scars on his legs from where he was burned trying to get that egg…

"Hermione," she turned quickly to find Dumbledore behind his desk, fumbling through parchments, "You are one of the few people in this castle who I trust to always do the right thing. But even with that I must beg of you to never repeat what you heard in this room."

His voice was stern, but she knew the place it was coming from was the genuine care he felt for all students. Even Draco. She briefly looked to the ground and nodded silently.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said graciously before taking a seat, and ushering her to do the same, "Now what is the real reason you have come here this morning?

Pieces of the conversation that she had overheard were still running through her head as she took a seat like Dumbledore had asked. Even if she remembered what she had come here for, what she had heard was far too mind-altering to even move past the subject.

Hermione cleared her throat, trying to muster the courage to say anything to Dumbledore, "… Does… does he come to your office, often, headmaster? I mean … "

She fumbled trying to find the right words, "Is he… Well is he alright?"

Dumbledore blinked a few times, even a man of his stature found Draco Malfoy's current situation to be one of great delicacy and even with someone like Hermione, he knew that saying the wrong thing could cost an eighteen year old boy his life.

He placed his hands in his lap before he began to speak, "How close are you with Mr. Malfoy?

Guilt ran through her, knowing that most of what she did and said to Draco was awful. Especially after the incident with Dumbledore, "Not close. He's always openly disliked me, and I pay him the same amount of respect."

He nodded, "I understand that he is not the most pleasant of companions sometimes – _most_ times – But you have to realize the kind of a trauma he has been through in the past few months. Have you noticed a change in him? His demeanor – the way he acts? He obviously is not the same person. He may act the same, Hermione, but Draco is deeply disturbed, and frightened…"

It was shocking how frank Dumbledore was being about the Head Boy he had chosen. Hermione nodded her head, not really knowing what he wanted her to say. What could she say?

"Hermione…" Dumbledore sighed, understanding that once again he was asking too much of a girl who already gave everything she had, "Please don't mention this conversation. I purposely let you listen in today to understand him a little bit better."

"You knew I was standing at the door?" She asked, surprised.

"Of course, Ms. Granger," She saw a twinkle in his eye, but quickly his features turned grave, "I'm afraid the ministry is not going to give him a break during this trial… so I'm going to need help. The help of those who would normally turn their backs on Mr. Malfoy and his family…."

Dumbledore stood from his chair and made his way over to the window where he could see late Saturday morning risers heading out onto the grounds to play a game of quidditch or take a walk by a lake… those of which who the war effected minimally. Those who still had all the pieces of themselves… Dumbledore turned back to Hermione.

"I want you to testify at his trial."

The statement threw her off. Even for Dumbledore it was so shocking, and yet almost a plea from her headmaster…

"I…" The words slipped sloppily out of her mouth, "I… Don't know what I would say. What do you _want_ me to say?"

Her confusion was to be expected, "Say what you know. And you can discuss what you find out about him. Draco does not show emotion well, which won't be helpful to his case. You on the other hand are eloquent and already a respected young-women in our world, Hermione. Spend more time with him… find out about his motives and I think you'll feel obligated to help him fight for his life."

Hermione looked down at her hands folded neatly in her lap. Dumbledore did not ask things of his students that were meaningless and she could hear the sadness in his voice as he seemingly was begging her for this favor, even though he was begging for someone who intended to kill him for the sake of his family.

"Of course, Professor."

If Dumbledore could muster up forgiveness and be as kind as he had been to Draco, then she could too.

**. . . . . . . . .**

After leaving Dumbledore's office, Hermione wandered down the hall to finish her morning shift out. This morning people were getting away with more than they could regularly from the Head Girl, but her mind was swimming with everything she had heard in that office.

Every now and then she would close her eyes and the only thing she could see was Draco being escorted down the stairs looking broken and scared after the Ministry Officials had captured him that night.

Opening her eyes she found herself in front of the dark entrance to the Slytherin Dungeons. She groaned. Regardless of the detention pad she held in her hand, there was always someone who needed to point out her 'tainted blood' or shout something nasty in her direction as she roamed the cold, secluded dungeons where the snakes slithered.

This part of the castle was usually the quietest, even eerie. Hermione carefully made her way through, checking corridors along the way for anything. Just as she turned to make her way back to the Great Hall, she heard a familiar voice…

"Malfoy, you know the rules. We're not allowed to discuss anything…" the voiced was hush, male... Hermione turned her ear to listen closer, trying her best to control her breathing.

"I'm not asking for a bloody reprieve! I just want to know who will testify against me so I can be prepared … how would you feel, Theo?" Even though Draco was not yelling, his voice was more threatening than Theodore's was.

Theodore Nott had been his best friend since they could remember. Both were from the same type of family, were subjected to the same kind of belief system, but Theodore had both of his parents still… both of whom were going to testify against the Malfoy's to protect themselves. Draco could not begin to fathom the idea of people who he thought were his family, betraying everything to save themselves. Even Theodore had stopped speaking to him since the incident. While everyone would have supported him if he had succeeded, now he was just a failure. A broken, disenchanted boy.

Hermione stumbled into the stone wall as she tried to listen closer. Both Theodore and Draco turned to the right at the warning of an oncoming person. The torches did not illuminate the hallway so both begin walking to see who was there before saying anything else.

Theodore was first to find her, "I need to call the cleaning services… they forgot to remove some of the filth."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the all to usual welcome from the Slytherin. Taking out her notepad she fumbled through it, trying to find any excuse to why she had been there, "I uh.."

Draco stepped behind Theodore to find the Head Girl, obviously shaken, flipping through her detention pad, "I was just about to head to the Great Hall. Was it really necessary to come down here to find me, Granger?"

Theodore smirked as she stood there in silence, he reached out to wrap on of her curls around his finger, "Aren't we a Cowardly lion, today?"

Hermione uncomfortably moved away from Theodore, "Don't touch me," She warned, "I just came down here to find Millicent… have either of you seen her?"

Lying through her teeth.

"Really? To find Millicent? For what… did you leave Ron and finally come to terms that you want to be with a woman?" Theodore laughed at his own comment, slapping Draco in the arm.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest, watching Hermione carefully.

"You've really grown up, haven't you Nott?" Her voice became more confident when she actually found the detention slip she had written two weeks ago and forgotten about until now: Millicent had been wandering the halls after hours and going to the kitchens to steal tarts and candies. It really had not been a big deal until now, when she needed an alibi.

She ripped the slip from the notebook and handed it to Draco, "She's your house-mate. You give it to her."

"Well I'd love to hang around and discuss your boring, unnecessary job, but I'm going to the quidditch pitch," Theodore glanced at Draco before making his exit, leaving them alone.

Draco ripped up the slip and threw it aside, knowing truly that she had not been down here for something so frivolous, "That's the second conversation you've listened in on today."

She raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall coolly, "Excuse me? I was down here doing my job, unlike someone else…"

"Quit lying through your teeth," the former prince began to walk away from her, not really caring or having the strength to deal with her at the moment.

As he suspected though, she trotted close behind, "What was that about then?"

"What about?" He carelessly said, roaming through the dark corridors trying to find the light where the stairwell was.

"You and Nott, that exchange? _"You know the rules"…_ What _rules?_"

He stopped in his tracks and sharply turned to find her right in from of him. He was only half a head taller than her, but she always felt five inches tall when he looked at her like that, "That is none of your business, Granger. And it would be beneficial to you if you stuck to what you were good at… like writing rubbish citations to those who don't worship the bloody ground you walk on."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to muster up the will to fight back, "I did not intentionally come down here looking for you! Honestly… I had twenty minutes left and knew there's no one around here at this hour. I didn't want to write detention slips, I needed time to think, Malfoy!"

He shrugged his shoulders, "And during this moment of peace to yourself, you somehow just find a resting spot in a dark corner where I am talking to someone? For someone so clever, you really are a twit."

"A twit!" her voice cracked as it rose, "Yes! You want answers? Yes I did hear you this morning! I didn't mean to… once again…. But I _did_ hear. I was not going to bring it up until Dumbledore practically begged me to do something I would have _never _dreamed of doing."

There were voices echoing through the halls. It must have been one o'clock – lunchtime. Draco moved away from her, trying to process what she was saying.

"And what is that? What _demeaning_ task did he ask of you?"

Hermione sighed, watching how tense he was becoming. His hair covered his eyes as he looked to the ground, and Hermione knew why Dumbledore had asked her to do this. Draco needed someone –_ anyone_, as a companion. He was visibly alone.

"He wants me to testify for you."

Her simple words were laced with all the kindness she possessed. No attitude, no remorse or hatred; It was an offering. Draco moved away from her and kicked a rock from the dirty floor of the dungeons he used to rule.

"I don't need your help."

"I know," She whispered, "But… I_ want_ to help."

Both faced each other, on opposite sides of the hallways. Hermione awkwardly fumbled with the quill and detention pad in her hand, not really knowing how to act or what to say, or if this new venture of hers was a good idea – a _safe_ idea. On the other hand Draco hated the idea that the one of the only people willing to help him was a girl he had detested from the first time he laid eyes on her. She was the epitome of what his parents preached against: uppity, Muggle-born, and entitled. But here she was, after all the name calling, after the pranks, after he degraded her – she was still willing to put her reputation on the line.

Before Draco could say anything, students started trickling throughout the dungeons, on their way to lunch. One student in particular grabbed his attention.

"I'm just in time, obviously…" She drawled through her candy-apple red lips, "Good thing I can take you to lunch before _she _bores you to death."

Pansy grabbed Draco's arm and led him away from Hermione who was now an obvious standout in a sea of gray and green scarves, hats, shirts….

Hermione turned to find Draco glancing back at her.

"_Bastard,"_ She whispered to herself.

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**Author's Notes:** Hope y'all liked the first chapter. Please review and let me know what you think; I absolutely LOVE reviews (good and bad)! Thank you so much for reading!


	2. Little Lion Man

**_"Everything you do is a gem in my collection_**  
**_I will follow you until I will get your perfection"_**

**_Perfection,_** _**Oh Land**_

* * *

Once you were a seventh year, the classes you took had at least half the students in them than years past. So you became familiar with a particular group of people with the same skill set, and after seven years most of them were a kind of family.

Ever since the battle though, there was a visible shift in all of Hermione's classes. Draco was in all of them except for one – Muggle Studies, but even then she spent a good deal of time around him.

In their sixth year the Slytherins were their own type of club in which no Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff could gain access. Draco had been the obvious leader. Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass made up the rest of the Slytherin cult. Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent and a few others did not have the same classes after their owl exams.

They would rally around one another and make everything a fierce competition. Pansy and Daphne hung off of the boys as if they were coat racks.

Needless to say, things were very different now.

The only seventh-year Gryffindors left taking Potions were Hermione, Harry, Seamus, Dean and Parvati. They were joined by other talented Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs whose chosen career path included the seventh and hardest year of potions, still taught by Professor Snape.

"And does anyone – _besides Ms. Granger_ - know the exact time to simmer a successful Draught of Peace?" – Snape drawled as he crossed the bubbling cauldrons in front of the classroom.

Hermione had become used to not answering until it was evident that no one else knew the answer, which was a good portion of the time. But she sat idly, waiting until Professor Snape would give her a defeated nod.

"Seven minutes, sir." Hermione answered obediently.

Unlike the years past, there was no uppity, know-it-all style of answering that Professors and students had become used to. This year she was always collected, and honestly answered to avoid wasting time in class rather than to turn her nose up at the others.

Draco, who sat a table in front of her and Harry looked behind only to meet eyes with the brunette briefly. He had tried avoiding her since the talk in the dungeons, but living with one another and having classes together made it hard to win that battle.

Noticing the interaction, Harry nudged her and raised an eyebrow.

"_After class_," she hissed.

"Ms. Granger, the ten points I was going to award Gryffindor for your, once again, right answer - is not needed after your rude interruption." Snape glared at the two before turning back to the cauldrons to continue his lesson.

Thirty minutes of her answering more questions, and demonstrating the right way to boil a batch of the potion went by before they were dismissed and Hermione gathered her books into her leather tote before shuffling through the room and into the crowded dungeons with her raven-haired best friend.

"What's going on between you two?" Harry inquired once again.

Hermione shrugged, knowing the animosity Harry felt towards Draco. While it was a feeling Harry was entitled to, Hermione did not feel like having a discussion on why she was going to put her differences beside her in order to fulfill Dumbledore's wish. At least for today there would be no divulgence.

So she found herself in a white lie again, "He's missing rounds. So it's been rather awkward after our fights."

"You need to speak to Dumbledore about this," Harry jutted out as they entered the Great Hall, "If he won't listen, Mcgonagall will."

Avoiding the fight, she nodded.

"Harry! 'Mione!" The familiar, warm voice sent shivers up her spine. It had actually been a few days since she had seen her boyfriend. As they both turned around, she felt his arms wrap around her torso.

"Missed you," He whispered into her ear.

Harry awkwardly looked on as he so often had done since they made their feelings apparent. But nonetheless he had been happy with their relationship and had seen it coming even before they did. Harry's own relationship with Ron's sister, however, was something he struggled with keeping in tact, especially after the night Voldemort died.

The trio made their way up the stairs for the long journey to the Gryffindor common room. It was an afternoon ritual for them. Before dinner they would all go to sit and catch up, do homework, or just sit and enjoy one of the rare occasions to enjoy each other's company.

When they reached the infamous fat lady who guarded the Gryffindor Tower, Ron spoke, "_Canary Creames_."

* * *

Obediently the portrait swung open to let the trio in. While Hermione no longer lived in the Gryffindor Tower, the scarlet and gold décor still felt like home. There was a few students scattered in the common room who briefly looked up as the walked in, but no one really bothered them any more. Hermione led the boys to a couch by the fireplace and started pulling out her potions homework while Ron took a seat beside her.

"Are you going to be at the quidditch match this Saturday? Ron asked, taking out his own scrolls of parchment and laying them across the table.

"Of course," she answered, looking up at Harry, "Wouldn't miss the first game of the season or a chance to see my two favorite boys in their uniforms."

She and Ron laughed, but they knew Harry was distracted. He had been and no one really tried to change that. Ginny was the only one who could get through to him and Hermione made sure to talk with her often about how her best friend was doing.

"Harry, what are you working on?" She inquired as he scribbled away at his homework.

"Potions… unfortunately I don't have you correcting my answers in the morning, so I actually have to try."

Ron snapped his head in her direction to find her mouth agape, "Harry, _please_. I only do it to help…"

"_Help_? Hermione he does not deserve your help. He does not deserve Dumbledore's help. They should have hauled him off to Azkaban that night!"

Harry's voice began to raise, and those around them took notice, "I lost my father, then I lost Sirius, and now Dumbledore - and to someone who _intended_ on murdering him."

Hermione was speechless and had not expected this conversation. Harry had never let on to what he had been feeling, but now she knew what had been bottled up all these months – The entirety of the Gryffindor Common Room did.

While the past years had yielded many fights between her and Ron, Harry was a different story. They rarely fought and when they did it never felt like this. There was an obvious rift, and Hermione knew that telling the both of them what Dumbledore had asked of her would not help matters.

Shaking her head, Hermione started putting her parchments and books back into her bag, "I'm going to head back to my room before dinner, I should be writing my reports…"

Ron noticed her voice shaking, "I'll walk you down, Hermione."

Harry went back to his homework not acknowledging the two of them leave.

They reached the statue guarding the Head Boy and Head Girl's dormitory. A Roman-esque statue of a beautifully draped woman, who was unfortunately missing her head.

"_Inter spem et metum,_" She whispered, and the statue moved aside.

Ron raised a curious eyebrow, "That's a little complicated…"

"Draco made it up – I don't fight him, it's useless," Hermione shrugged. As she stared at Ron, she realized how long it had been since she had truly been alone with him. Usually they'd meet at meals, if they even had the chance, or before games. But there were always other places to be and other responsibilities they both had to take care of.

This was nice.

Reaching out she moved a strand of his defiant red hair from his eyes, "I've missed you."

He grinned at her unexpected comment, "I've missed you too … where did that come from?"

She grabbed his hand, leading him inside the elaborately decorated common room. The curtains were still open, letting the sunlight inside – so she knew Draco was not home. Draco preferred their dwellings to be dark and cold, much like his former residence in the dungeons.

For now though, her and Ron were alone.

Before she answered his questions, she threw down her bag and took a seat next to him on the couch, "I don't know. Ever since last year we've all been disconnected and I know I haven't been the best girlfriend –"

He covered her mouth with his hand, "Stop. You have so much on your plate and I don't need you adding this. Any time I see you is enough for me."

It was a little bit sick how good he was to her. Hermione sighed not really knowing what to say before she noticed his shirt had moved up his torso revealing the scar that Fenir Greyback had left during the last battle.

"Oh Ron," she traced the outline with her finger. It was a dark red color against his pale skin, "I thought you had seen Madame Pomfrey to heal this."

He shrugged, "I don't want it healed. It's a reminder… plus Harry's scar has always looked cool, so thought this would make me more interesting."

They both laughed. Ron always knew how to make her laugh which was one of the things she needed most. Her parents had consistently reminded her that the levels of stress she put on herself were not healthy or normal. Ron had a way of easing the tension. Even in times like these…

Hermione moved closer pressing her lips gently atop his.

It had been awhile since they had been alone together and Ron immediately placed his hand behind her head to hold her to him. Their lips moved in a systematic rhythm they had created and knew by heart. The room was so quiet that they could only hear one another's breathing.

Everything was at peace -

"I thought you were supposed to be on duty, Granger."

His arrogant drawl snapped both of them out of the trance. Neither had heard someone enter. Hermione stood up quickly, crossing her arms over her chest. Draco noticed how flushed her cheeks had become and wondered if it was because of her rather passionate make-out session with her boyfriend, or the fact that she had been caught in the position she was in.

Flustered, she shook her head and grabbed the small leather planner from the table and flipped to the week, "I do not have duty today, you do."

Draco shrugged, "Give it to a prefect."

"That's not my job! And you know the rules, you have to get coverage a day in advance, so you need to grab your citation pad and go before I -"

"Before you _what,_ Granger?" He raised an eyebrow and started down the spiral staircase and into the common room, "Tell on me?"

Ron finally rose from the couch, not feeling comfortable with the way Draco had been talking to Hermione, "Grow up, Malfoy. She covers for you all the time."

Draco scoffed and slumped himself into the forest-green armchair by the fireplace, "You have your boyfriend fighting your battles now? I'd sod off, Weasley, let her grow up and fend for herself."

"You slimy git," Ron growled through his teeth, moving towards the chair where the blonde was sprawled out, "The day they send you to Azkaban, we will all be better off."

"Ron! Stop!" Hermione grabbed his hand, shaking her head.

Draco remained quiet, taking in what was said. The thought of Azkaban was in the back of his mind all of the time. He had constant nightmares of the dementors kiss and what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out from within you. There was nothing to say, and instead of doing what was expected of the Slytherin Prince, he remained seated and quiet.

The head girl led her boyfriend out of the common room and into the hallway outside where students were now gathering as dinner approached.

"You can't let him get away with that, Hermione! What does Dumbledore do about this?" Ron was fuming, his face becoming more and more red.

"Look, we'll have to talk about this later, okay?" Hermione was in her head and could not possibly explain what Dumbledore had asked of her, especially now when his temper was flaring. She gave him a quick kiss and squeezed his hand.

"I love you and thank you for spending the afternoon with me, but I have to take care of some things before dinner. I'll see you at quidditch practice, okay?"

Ron nodded, "Just let me know if you need anything."

* * *

"Does he know you've been instructed to sympathize with me? To be my advocate?"

Hermione slowly made her way down the stairs, her finger tracing the marbled banister, as she entered the common room to find Draco still slumped in the chair looking at the fire.

"No."

"Of course not. You'd rather not rock the boat right now anyway, right? Especially with all the rumors about him leaving you for Romilda Vane."

He was still full of malice. Hermione bit her lip, obviously affected by his accusation. She had heard the rumors but pushed them out of her head, knowing Ron was loyal to her. Right now she felt that she was the un-loyal one, hiding the truth rather than confiding in the one she loved. All of the Weasleys were honest people, but Ron in particular had a hard time hiding anything from anyone – especially her.

Ronald Weasley's polar opposite was staring back at her, his eyes cloudy. There was still a voice buried somewhere inside of her urging to back out of the deal she made with Dumbledore. After all, would Draco have done the same for her? She knew the answer.

"You make it so hard for anyone to help you."

Draco looked away at her comment. Hermione took a seat in her chair across from him and crossed her legs, placing her head idly on her hand waiting for him to refute her statement, but he didn't. Draco was in his own head, thoughts swarming in and out. He had not spoken with his mother for months, and in the state she was in, speaking to her would have been like being with a stranger. St. Mungos had only destroyed what was left of her, and the once noble, confident woman Draco knew was a shell of what she had been. And as for his father, there was good chance he would be reunited with him in Azkaban with the way the Ministry was taking a stance against him.

His parents had made him a pawn in Lord Voldemort's plan of destruction. They did it without thought, as a sense of duty instead of wanting to protect their one and only son. So when someone like Hermione Granger, who was good to her core and with everything to lose, wanted to help him without hesitation it made him weary. After all, his own parents wanted something out of him, so why wouldn't she?

Slowly he turned to face her, "Do you love him?"

The reasoning of his questions was even a mystery to him. It put Hermione off, and made her uncomfortable. Shifting in her chair, she glanced down at her watch to check the time.

"It's almost dinnertime, we better grab our cloaks and head down the – "

"I asked you a question," He interrupted.

Feeling a lump in her throat, Hermione nodded, "Of course I do. And quite frankly, that is not any of your business."

"I know," he ran a hand through his hair casually, settling in the chair even further, "But since we are going to have to get to know one another on a more personal level, I thought I'd start off with the most personal thing to you – especially since I walked in on you two today. If I had come five minutes later, who knows what I could have seen…"

"Stop being disgusting. He's my boyfriend, and it was in the middle of the day. Unlike you and your constant stream of girls in and out of here at all hours of the night."

A smirked etched itself onto his face, "Sounds like you're a tad jealous."

"J_ealous_? Why would I be jealous? Besides, it's against the rules, and disrespectful." Getting worked up, Hermione stood and crossed to the couch where her leather satchel was sitting.

Draco watched her intently, loving when she got flustered the way she did. He quietly rose from the chair and grabbed her cloak from the coat rack. Shuffling over to where she was rummaging through her bag, he slipped it around her shoulders and reached over to clasp it around her neck. Hermione felt the hairs on her arms standing up, and his scent of musk and cedar danced around her nose.

He touched his lips gently to her ear. She felt them shift into a smile, "You're jealous because of the same reason you told Dumbledore you would help me."

She didn't move away from him. His breath against her skin made her heart lose its rhythm inside her chest.

"It's the same reason you do my homework in the morning, and neglect to tell Dumbledore of what a horrible head boy I am…"

Refusing to give into another one of his mind games, Hermione quickly turned, now nose to nose with Draco, "Stop. _Stop_ doing whatever you're doing. We're going to be late for dinner."

Without thought and without warning, Draco pressed his lips to hers. They were salty tasting, and he was determined to believe that was a remnant of Weasley's mouth. The thought didn't disgust him too much since he was not the one to push away.

Eyes wide open, Hermione forcefully pushed him aside. Her face burned a bright scarlet than we he caught her earlier. He reached out to move a curl away from her eyes, but was quickly slapped away by a still speechless Hermione.

"_How – dare – you_," She huffed, grabbing her bags, "Testify for yourself! I don't care what happens to you, honestly. I'm not going to waste anymore time trying to help you, and it seems quite insane that I put effort in the first place! Maybe they should lock me up with your mother in St. Mungos!"

He watched as she stormed out of the room and up the stairs; her voice carrying down the hall. Never before had he heard her say anything hurtful like that to someone else, and while it struck a nerve, he did not feel guilty in the least. There was no reason for the action, nor did he really enjoy it, but a piece of him wanted to feel her – to understand him. Hermione felt like more of a mystery than he was most of the time, and while he knew only what he saw of her, Draco felt the need to get inside her head.

And he did…

Hermione stood outside of the quarters staring out into the empty hallway. She could hear the murmurs from the Great Hall carrying down the hallway, but right now she felt eerily alone. There was no way she could talk to Ron about what happened, because she knew what the outcome would be. Harry was always in his own world, and with the given circumstances, she knew he was not an option either. Ginny would feel the need to tell Ron - so here she was, back to square one.

She touched a finger gently to her lips, just to see if they felt any differently than they did before.

Tomorrow she'd go to Dumbledore. The deal was off.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Would love your feedback! Hope you enjoyed! And for anyone wondering, the password to their common room means _"Between hope and fear."_


	3. The Youngest Member

"_**I won't let you choke on the noose around your neck."**_

_**The Cave, **Mumford and Sons_

* * *

Even if Hogwarts had put out a search committee, Hermione Granger refused to be found after the incident with Draco Malfoy. She locked herself deep inside of the room of requirements with nothing but a copy of Gildory Lockhart's 'Magical Me' to keep her company. While his stories had been discredited as real in their second year, it was a book that brought her back to a different place and removed all of the thoughts from her head – even if it was just for a little while.

She sat in a nook buried somewhere deep inside of the various artifacts that were put in the room. Around her there were birdcages, mysterious wands, trinkets and items that were deemed lost a long time ago. The room held Hogwarts' history, and it was no coincidence that she felt most comfortable in there.

But after spending the entire night in there, she knew that she had a bi-weekly meeting with Dumbledore and as much as she'd like to skip it right now, Hermione was bound to obligations. Before she made the long trek to Dumbledore's office she snuck back into her dormitory to freshen up. After throwing her hair up into a messy ponytail, and switching into a pair of baggy corduroys and Gryffindor sweater, she grabbed her citation pad and was once again on her way.

"Five minutes late…" She murmured, glancing at her watch. Hating being late, Hermione broke out into a jog.

* * *

"Have you seen Ms. Granger, Draco?" Dumbledore inquired.

He was neatly tucked behind his desk, while Draco took the seat to his left across from him. Fawkes was in the corner of the office, staring intently at Dumbledore. Draco was surprisingly well put together: black slacks paired with a charcoal grey sweater, his hair was slicked back neatly. The dark circles that had become a permanent fixture on his face seemed to have disappeared over night.

Before Draco could answer, Hermione came bounding up the stairs, and took the seat next to Draco's, "I'm so sorry, sir. I lost track of time – I've had so much on my mind, it will never happen again – "

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Dumbledore inquired cutting her off. Usually his Head Girl was calm, collected – but judging by her state now, Dumbledore sensed that something was off, and he had a feeling why.

She refused to answer the question, knowing the Headmaster would immediately catch her bluff. Pulling out the report from her bag, Hermione slid it across the table along with a stack of citations.

"Thank you," Dumbledore replied, taking them and briefly scanning the neatly written pages, "But today's meeting has more importance than discussing the rebellious youth of Hogwarts. I'm sure you two have talked by now of what I've asked of Ms. Granger – and I'd like to help you both understand one another."

Both sat quietly, not wanting to lead on to the events of the night prior. Hermione pursed her lips in thought, trying desperately to figure out what was up Dumbledore's sleeve.

Both turned as the cabinet doors opened and the pensieve moved to the middle of the room, the bright mist floating above it, giving an eerie glow to the office. With a flick of his wand the curtains around the room were closed shut and Dumbledore walked over to the peinsive, a tiny vile in his hand.

"This is one of Draco's most suppressed memories…"

Hermione looked a Draco who was now turned away from her, and then back at Dumbledore who was pouring the silver glimmer of light into the spinning dish.

"…I've collected a few and at every meeting you will both experience them together. I feel that for Draco it will be a way to share his past without ever talking about it, and you will see a side no one ever gets to…"

He motioned the both to come over. Hermione had every intention of coming into the office today to call this off, but here she was, side by side with Draco about to delve into his past.

His cloudy eyes were focused upon her steadily, waiting for her to say something, but she did not.

Dumbledore finally broke the silence, "At anytime you want out, just say and it will stop. Draco has offered the memory of a meeting with Voldemort for you two to step in to. This may get heavy and uncomfortable and I understand that. But I assure you, Hermione, You have nothing to fear."

"I know," She breathed, staring into the swirling abyss of the Pensieve.

"Remember, Hermione, you say the word and you are out." Dumbledore reassured.

Hermione nodded and looked up at Draco to find him focused in her. She wanted to tell Dumbledore right now that she was done with this, to find someone else. But she could not move. Draco never shared anything with anyone, and she was going to be inside his head. It was intriguing and frightening, and at this point she was committed.

"I'm ready," her voice shook, giving away her nerves.

Draco grabbed onto her clammy hand gently, and before she could blink they were violently pulled into the swirling mist. With a 'thud' they landed in the middle of what seemed like a grandeur dining room. Everything around them seemed to be dreamlike, everyone moved at a slow pace. It took time to realize she was at Malfoy Manor.

Death eaters sat around a rectangular dining table made of some kind of heavy oak. The chairs were upholstered in a deep plum fabric and a chandelier made of delicate crystals was lit above them. Hermione had never seen anything so majestic. However, the decorations were not enough to distract her from what was happening in the room.

Voldemort sat at the foot of the table, just below him was his most prized possession – his snake, Nagini. Hermione felt as if both sets of eyes were burning through her, as if they knew of the new presence in the room. Draco must have felt her body tense, because he instinctively stepped closer to her, almost as a shield.

Hermione noticed Draco's parents to the side of Voldemort, and his Aunt Bellatrix Lestrange to Voldemort's right.

Her breathing was now audible to Draco and he motioned for them to go stand behind a group of death eaters. They both knew that they could not be seen, but being in this room was taking a toll on both of them.

Draco was being reminded of the night his parents had essentially put him up for auction, a pawn in Voldemort's game. If they stayed long enough, she would see him receive the Dark Mark.

His eyes focused upon the petite woman who was hold his hand under the table. His mother. He had trusted her, was the only person he had ever really bonded with. She always claimed that she would fight fiercely for him, but here she was – taking her lamb to the slaughter. Draco watched the memory of himself, and it was strange to look upon a scared, defenseless version of him. It was uncomfortably cold in the room, and yet the other Draco had beads of sweat rolling down his neck onto his tailored black suit.

Hermione had caught on and was now watching Draco watch the other Draco. Finally she had the courage to speak, knowing nothing would happen to them.

"Why did they do this to you?"

He shrugged, "Power, loyalty, fear… Voldemort wanted to punish my father and he knew that forcing me to kill him would end with me dying either by Dumbledore or by Voldemort himself if I failed."

Draco turned back to the scene before him, "It was a Catch 22. No one ever planned on everything ending that night."

"_Draco we bestow upon you this vital responsibility to our cause, and it is no coincidence we chose you, one of our up-and-coming, to take on this task,"_ Voldemort hissed as he rose from him chair, his snake following his every move.

Hermione had forgot where they were for just a moment, but now could not turn away from the once powerful leader. She understood why they followed him, he was charismatic and eloquent, but most of all he evoked fear in them. No one in the room would dare to speak while he was. They all hung on his words, waiting for command.

Draco stood before his new leader.

Voldemort grabbed the boy's left arm and pushed up his sleeve to show bare skin. Hermione took note of how pale and pristine it was, like porcelain. It pained her to know what was there now.

"_You are receiving the highest honor as one of my followers, this mark will connect you to all of us and most importantly, me." _Voldemort continued, placing the tip of his wand on the unscathed skin.

Hermione watched as he tried to hold back the pain. His eyes scrunched together as what looked like black ink etch itself into his skin. No one spoke during the process. Hermione turned to her left to see how Draco was reacting to reliving this.

His face was motionless. But as her eyes gazed down he clasped his hand over this left arm where the mark lay beneath.

Before she knew it the snake and skull were etched permanently into Draco's skin and Voldemort was first to start the applause.

_"Please, give our youngest member a round of applause. You are now worthy of the task at hand."_

The applause was deafening. Bellatrix stood and made her way over to him, kissing his forehead and lifting his sleeve to admire Voldemort's work. The only two people in the room who did not seem overjoyed were Draco's parents, especially Narcissa who had gone a shade paler.

Draco must have noticed, "They knew."

Shaking her head, Hermione turned to him, "Knew what?"

"What this was really about," Draco turned back to watch his mother, "This was never about honor. Voldemort was using me to settle the score against my father. He knew I would not be able to do it, and therefore we all would die."

Chills ran up Hermione's spine. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so honest. For the first time since the night at the tower, she pitied him. The sixteen-year-old Draco she was watching become a deatheater never had a choice in the matter. He was thrown in to a tank of sharks - all of them hungry, visceral.

This scene was disgusting. Adults rallying around a teenage boy to attempt to kill the Headmaster of his school. Hermione focused in on Draco who was now being asked to speak.

"_I thank you for the opportunity to prove myself as a Malfoy and member of this community. My father has instilled in me an understanding of blood purity and I intend to keep to the oath," _He kneeled before Voldemort,_ "I am loyal to you and the cause."_

She could feel her stomach twisting into knots. Did he still feel this way about blood purity? Or had it been an act? Her head was cloudy and all of a sudden everyone around them become blurred and a mist pushed them back into Dumbledore's office which was beginning to darken.

"How long were we there?" He asked absently.

Dumbledore was not around. It felt as if she was in the dining room for hours. This had all been too much for one day, and if last nights behaviors were not enough to stop her from pursuing this any further, today was.

Hermione grabbed her citation pad and ran out of the office as fast as she could, leaving him there alone. She did not care what he thought, or what he did, or if he told Dumbledore. She was done. They had all been through too much, and she would not stand by his side. There was always right and wrong, and Hermione at all times tried to walk in the light. Harry and Ron needed her; they were where her loyalties lay. Not with Draco Malfoy.

* * *

"Hermione!"

The small voice stopped her in her tracks. Turning around, she spotted the youngest Weasley heading towards her.

Ginny noticed immediately how wretched she looked, "Have you been sleeping?"

Hermione shrugged, giving her a hug, "Not much…. Homework, reports…"

They both knew it was a lie. Hermione had never lost sleep over homework like the rest of her peers. But Ginny did not pester her further. It had been a few days since seeing her, and really she just wanted to play catch up, and to ask about Harry.

The two began walking towards the grounds, where the boys were holding practice.

Ginny immediately went into a game of 21 questions, all of them pertaining to Harry. Hermione was always a steady stream of 'I don't knows'. Harry had withdrawn from everyone after the war, but Ginny took it the hardest. For months now she would skip meals, her red hair was now thinning. Hermione hated watching her feelings manifest themselves physically, but there was nothing she could do.

"I just try so hard, 'Mione," Ginny sighed, her bright brown eyes looking for any kind of solace from her friend, "But he won't open up, and won't let me help him."

"You just have to give him some time," she reassured, "He's been through a lot. We've all been through a lot. And with the trails coming up in a few months, we all have to be here for each other."

Hermione pushed the thought quickly from her mind. She would have to answer to Dumbledore tomorrow, but right now she just wanted to be with her friends.

The bright lights of the Quidditch Pitch were shining in front of them. She could see the Gryffindor team high above doing rounds under Harry's strict orders as captain. They were flashes of gold and scarlet above the stands, but she spotted Ron's flaming hair without problem. She waved above, and he immediately flew down.

"Finally!" He shouted, elated.

Throwing down his broom, he swooped her up into his arms and kissed her forehead. This was home to her. Ron had broad shoulders; he was muscular but not toned. She had never told anyone her deep feelings, but this was the man she wanted to marry. This was the man who made her feel safe.

"I'm glad you both showed up, we've been wondering were you two have been all day," Ron stated, grabbing Hermione's hand and leading them up into the stands.

"Really? Has Harry said anything?" Ginny inquired.

Ron caught on, and tried to avoid the situation as best as possible, "Yeah, I mean Hermione's been missing since last night. And we have not seen you since breakfast, Ginny. Harry's a little bit busy though training the second years, but I'm sure he'll want to talk after."

Ginny did not hesitate and climbed the stands further, trying to get Harry's attention.

Ron turned to Hermione who had been quiet this whole time. Something was wrong, something had been wrong and he wanted to know.

"Talk to me," He asked. Sitting next to her.

Hermione held his broom, examining the etchings with the years he had been on the team. This was not the conversation she wanted to have now. All she wanted was this Saturday night, in peace, with him.

"I need to tell you something," she whispered.

His stomach dropped at the tone of her voice. Swallowing hard, Ron tried to remain calm, "You can tell me anything, Hermione. What's been going on?"

She shrugged, placing his broom back on the floor beneath them. She was wringing her hands, which was a tell sign that she was stressed. It took a minute, but she finally admitted the secret she had been holding in.

"The other day Dumbledore asked me to do something…"

Hermione explained the situation as best as possible. Why Dumbledore had asked her in particular, what she knew of Dumbledore's reasoning behind it. Ron, as expected, did not buy any of it. She had intentionally left out Draco's actions from the previous night, knowing his reaction would be a lot worse.

Throwing her hands up, Hermione shrugged, "I don't know what you want me to do, Ron. Dumbledore would not ask me to do something if it was not important."

"He's a monster! Can you imagine what Harry is going to say?"

"We're not going to tell Harry right now!" She shouted, cutting him off.

Ron was fumbling with his hands looking at the ground, "My brother is gone Hermione. I'm not a git, and know that Draco was not responsible for Fred's death, but he chose his side. You will have to testify in front of my parents. What would they think?"

Her heart sank thinking about Fred. George had been a wreck ever since the war. The joke shop had been closed on a temporary hiatus and George was now traveling around the world. The family was lucky if they heard from him at least one a month. The Weasleys were like her family, and things were becoming too real.

'I won't do it."

Ron looked up from the floor only to find her obviously defeated, with tears welling in her eyes, "Why does this mean so much to you? He's never been there for anyone… especially you."

"I know," She nodded, "But you did not have to relive that memory tonight. Watching Voldemort force him into it, and without any stop from his parents. Can you imagine if your parents had done that to you?"

"I'll never side with him, Hermione. I don't feel sorry for him!"

Ron could not take it any more. He hated reliving that night, he hated talking about it and he could not bring back the memories of finding Fred on the staircase without any life left in him.

Grabbing his broom, he mounted wanting to get back to practice as soon as he could. But Hermione grabbed his arm before he could take off.

"I'm sorry," She sighed. Moving forward she placed her lips desperately upon his.

Ron dropped his broom and wrapped his arms tightly around her tiny frame. His fingers became entangled in her hair, and she moved so that her back was against the wall. Hermione could not understand what had came over her, but suddenly the thought of leaving Ron's side was unbearable. Her fingers danced underneath his shirt and she lightly traced his scar.

She could feel him sigh into her mouth. Everything from the past few days seemed to evaporate into the night, and just as she lost herself there was a reminder that they were not alone.

"_Oy! Weasley!"_

They both looked to find members of the quidditch team starring in their direction. Harry must have already taken off because he was nowhere in sight, and ironically Ginny was not either.

_"You're in charge, mate!"_

Ron smiled and moved a strand of hair from her eyes, "I guess that's my cue. Thank you for coming to visit tonight, we'll talk more tomorrow. Okay?"

She nodded, feeling better, "Miss you already."

Hermione stepped back as he grabbed his broom and flew back out to the pitch. While her mind was still racing after everything that had happened in Dumbledore's office, Ron always brought some kind of peace of mind. She would hold off on making any official decisions until Monday and spend the rest of the weekend thinking about where she stood.

Hopping down from the stands, she tightened her scarf around her neck to shield from the sudden gust of wind. She glanced down at her clock to see what time it was.

"10, already?" She murmured.

"Watch where you're going!'

Even before she looked up to see what she ran into, she knew who it was, "I'm sorry, I just did not know what time it was."

After tonight she was hoping she would not have to see him until much later on. It was Saturday, which meant he usually snuck off the grounds and into Hogsmeade with one of his weekly conquest. Instead he was holding his broom in his hands and dressed down in the Slytherin sweat suit.

"You had to tell your boyfriend right way? Is that why you ran out of the office today like it was on fire?" He snarled.

"I didn't tell him anything, Draco! What I saw was between you and I," She could tell something was off, "Ginny and I were just visiting that is all. And they went back to practice so I thought I'd go catch up on some homework."

Draco shrugged, "The memories were his idea, not mine."

Before she could think, Hermione pushed passed him and towards the castle. He did not want her help, and right now she did not want to help him. She valued her relationship with Ron and Harry way more. This day had been exhausting and standing out in the cold was not helping.

She felt him walking behind her, _"Stop! _Granger!"

"Leave me alone," She shouted, not looking back. Finally she reached the castle doors and slammed the behind her without thinking.

Instead of heading back to her dorm, she detoured to the library. As Head Girl she insisted on unlimited library time, and Dumbledore had obliged. While the library was closed to other students on Saturday nights, Hermione had full reign.

Tonight she wanted to research Azkaban.

* * *

**Authors Note:** Thank you for reading! Like it, love it, loathe it? Let me know in a review! New chapter coming before the end of the week. Hope to hear your thoughts!


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